SNL 2020

Weird Games

Friday night, I found myself cooking shrimps swimming in butter, margarine and garlic with a dash of black pepper. Then I stirfried some noodles with slices of lean beef, bell peppers, snow peas, botchoy, carrots, young corn...and smothered all of them with my Ma's secret lo mien sauce. The lo mien sauce is made of ingredients and spices I cannot discuss here because its a secret sauce and both my Mama and GrandMa will tie me upside down and beat me with broomsticks if I reveal our family's secret recipe for lo mien sauce.

If none of you were ever threatened of being tied upside down and beaten with broomsticks, you must Qing. He never received such threats from his parents.

Anyways, I also cooked the rice perfectly and smiled at my effort when I have plated everything and served them on the dining table. I sat down and regard my sullen looking companion.

Me: (sighing) Our lives suck.

Qing: Shit. Lets just eat.

I sighed again as I watched my fiancé dump perfectly shelled and cooked shrimp on his rice. I winced when Qing sniffed and chewed like he was being paid for it. Plus the bonus...

Me: My birthday month sucks.

Qing: No. My parents suck. Both of them.

Me: Don't say that.

Qing nailed me with his eyes. I grimaced inwardly.

Me: Fine. Go on.

Qing: (going on) I hate my father. I don't care about my mother. I am disowning them first. My whole family...

Me: (careful tone) JR though...

Qing: Shit!

I placed a glass of water close to him. Qing drank and sighed tiredly.

Me: I mean, you cannot disown your nephew. What if we won't have kids, who will inherit your millions and my journals?

Qing: (frowning) You will put your journals as part of an inheritance?

Me: Why not? They are my treasured memories...

Qing: You wrote about having loose bowel movements in there. Plus you wrote a disparaging image of my dogs. Half of what's written in your journals are moments of you complaining about everything in sight.

Me: (putting down my chopsticks) Okay, first of all...you are right. All of what you said are rights. But also, don't forget, I write my fantasies and our fights there so...

Qing: So?

Me: So maybe someday, someone stupid will find my writings fascinating and make a series or movies based on my journals.

Qing sighed. He pressed fingers on his eyelids. He looks tired and stressed.

Qing: (opening his eyes) I see. Well, if ever your journals made it to the big screen, get involve in the production and make sure they will cast someone handsome to play me.

Me: You don't want to act on the movie about my journals?

Qing: No. I already lived those moments. I will die of you will make me relive them again with a camera rolling by and a director who'll shout "cut". Also a heads up, I might not watch the finished film.

Me: You sure are a supportive fiancé...not!

Qing reached for my hand. He pulled it towards him and kiss the back of it.

Qing: Thank you, Love...for everything. I love that you cook our dinner and your are distracting us from the fucked up reality we are living in.

Me: (gazing at him lovingly) It won't be so fucked up if you will find it in your heart to talk to Baba and Mama...